


The Tides That Bind

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Gen, Goodbyes, Internal Conflict, Love/Hate, Loyalty, Protective Siblings, Scheming, Tearjerker, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time has come to hand young Theon over to Ned Stark. How will each of the Greyjoys handle this very difficult task?</p><p>I'm going to attempt to write romance for each of the Greyjoy siblings, including some Thansa, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Yara plodded up the winding steps, accompanied the echo of her footsteps. She had wanted to check on her mother before turning in. Upon reaching the first landing, she noticed a sliver of light coming from Theon's room.

She approached the door and pushed it open a crack. There was her mother, perched on the edge of Theon's bed, watching the boy as he slept. Yara noticed a trail of tears on her mother's cheeks, her sorrowful expression shadowed by the light from the candle next to the bed.

"Alannys, what can I do?"

Her mother lifted her eyes and shook her head. "Could you call me _mother_ for once?"

"I'm sorry... _mother_." Yara tiptoed inside the room, admiring the dream-like expression on her brother's face. He knew what was coming in the morning but was somehow resting peacefully.

"I brought you something to drink."

Alannys took the cup. "Yara, how have you managed to be so brave? And this one...your brother...sleeping so soundly. I don't know how...I'm going to...let him go." And then she began crying fresh tears, letting them fall freely upon her robe and burying her face into a small kerchief. Yara patted her mother's back softly as she stood at her side.

"The time will pass quickly. You'll see. Father and I will -"

Alannys cringed at the mention of Balon Greyjoy and raised her voice just above a whisper. "Your father and his foolish rebellion. Was it worth sacrificing your brothers, my sons?"

Yara kneeled down next to the bed and clutched her mother's hands. She refrained from speaking against her father out loud, but she knew deep down that his ambition had led to the destruction of their family. "I don't...I don't know."

"He wouldn't listen. Your brothers wouldn't listen and now..." Alannys was nearly beside herself and Yara thought it better that they leave Theon's room so as to not disturb him. She motioned for her mother to follow her.

"No, I want to stay with him a bit longer. I leave for Harlaw at first light."

"What? You won't be here to say good-bye?"

"I can't, Yara. I can't watch my son being ripped from his home...his family...and not try to stop it. I'm afraid of what I'll do."

"But he'll be heartbroken."

"He'll be heartbroken no matter what. I've said my goodbyes to him already. And you'll be there. He loves you just as much as he loves me. Theon looks up to you."

"But it's not the same. He'll want his mother with him. Please reconsider."

"Go on and leave me, child. I can't make you understand what it's like to have a part of your heart ripped away from you. And Theon...there's always been something special about him. He was destined for great things. Still is. But this will rock him to his core, Yara. No young boy should have to endure this. It's cruel, and it's the aftermath of a war created by reckless men."

"Mother..."

"You tell him that I love him and to never forget who he is. He has to remain proud and never show fear."

Yara nodded. "Of course, I will." But as she turned to go, her heart sank, disappointed that Alannys was running away from the situation instead of being stronger.

Poor Theon. He was the innocent one in all of this. Yara wasn't sure that she would be able to refrain from lashing out at whomever came to take her brother away - even if it was Ned Stark himself.

Yara started to tell her mother good-night and begrudgingly wish her a safe journey, but she noticed that Alannys had curled up next to Theon and was stroking his hair and singing him a lullaby. She closed the door behind her and said a silent prayer to the Drowned God to help them all manage through this. Tomorrow was going to be hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Theon didn't want to wake up from his dream. He was near the waters of Pyke with his brothers and sister, playing a game of catch and laughing as his brother Rodrik did a nose dive into the rocks just for his amusement.  
  
Theon felt something nudging his arm. He tried to ignore it, but the nudging persisted. Theon knew that once he opened his eyes, his brothers would be gone, and he would be faced with a cold, hard reality.  
  
"Wake up, baby brother! Fryda cooked your favorite breakfast." Yara was standing over him with a forced smile on her face. She was trying to pretend that it was just any other day.  
  
"Where's mother?"  
  
Yara was now waiting patiently in the doorway, which was unlike her. Ordinarily, she would have yanked Theon out of bed by now. Come to think of it, everyone had been a little kinder to Theon since his father had shared the news of his fate.  
  
"She was needed in Harlaw. Told me to tell you that she loves you...and that she'll be waiting for you..." Yara turned her head for just a moment to compose herself while Theon sat motionless in bed.  
  
His mother. She wouldn't be there when they came to take him away. Maybe it was better for everyone. If Alannys was there to see him off, he would surely cry, and his father would be displeased at him for showing weakness.  
  
Just the day before, Alannys had encouraged Theon to think of this as an adventure, a chance to see a new place and learn new customs. But he wasn't convinced. His mother also told him to remember that he was a true prince and that no one should treat him as a lowborn, even though they probably would to remind him of his place.  
  
Balon had nothing kind to say about Ned Stark, and Theon knew he wasn't supposed to be too friendly towards his captors. They were, after all, only keeping him alive if his father continued to show good behavior. 

Theon wished he had been old enough to fight in the rebellion. Maybe he could have made a difference or at least made his father proud.  
  
"Alright, Yara. I'm coming. Could be my last chance to eat crab fritters for a while."  
  
^^^^^^^^^^

"Do you have your things packed?"  
  
"Yes. Mother put a few things aside for me."  
  
"Will you take your spear?  
  
"I don't think so."  
  
"Maybe they'll train you in something new."

"Maybe."

They finished their breakfast in silence, and Yara could tell that Theon was starting to worry. She patted his arm. "They'll take good care of you."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Are you afraid?"  
  
"I've just been thinking about Father. It's like I've let him down. He won't look at me or tell me anything other than I should never trust a Stark. I don't even know if he's going to tell me good-bye."  
  
"I'm sure he will. Fryda said she hasn't seen him since yesterday afternoon. I think he's truly bothered about you leaving." That's what she assumed anyway. Yara also knew that Balon was mourning the loss of their two older brothers but mostly wrestling with the crushing defeat of his failed rebellion. The rest of them were lucky to be alive and permitted to remain in Pyke – with the exception of Theon.  

As Theon was finishing his last bite of breakfast, Balon entered the great hall and walked right over to his throne without acknowledging his children. After a minute or two, he finally spoke.  
  
"Get your things, boy. It's time."


	3. Chapter 3

The ride to Lordsport was somber, as expected. The reminders of the recent siege on Pyke were everywhere – crumbling structures and smoldering debris.

Theon kept his gaze on the castle as it became smaller and smaller. He dared not make eye contact with his father. Balon had yet to give Theon the tiniest bit of reassurance or any indication that he would be missed.

"I'll deal with _Lord_ Stark, and you board whatever sad vessel he has prepared. As his ward, you must do as you're told. But never forget that one day, we will make them all pay for this ridiculous charade." 

And that was all Balon had to say to his last remaining son before Theon hugged his sister good-bye and made the short walk towards his new master. Ned Stark was waiting for him on the dock with a look of sympathy towards the young boy. He nodded towards Theon and then turned back to meet Balon's icy glare. The two men were now a few feet apart but did not greet one another.

Yara stood back with the guards that had accompanied them, taking in the scene in front of her. A smattering of Ironborn families had gathered at what was left of the docks to pay their respects and witness the departure of their prince.

Theon boarded the ship that was to take him away and then turned to meet Yara's gaze. She hadn't spent enough time with him over the years, she realized, and now there would be an even bigger distance between them. Sure, Yara had defended and protected Theon on several occasions when their older brothers were cruel to him. Who would do that now?

And suddenly Yara's feet were carrying her past her father, who was now exchanging unkind words with Ned Stark, and onto the ship to stand at her brother's side.

"What are you doing?" Theon asked her through clenched teeth. "Don't hug me again. I'm trying to be brave."

"I'm going with you."

"No, you're not. Don't be ridiculous. Father won't let you. Leave now, before you make a spectacle."

But Yara stood more determined than ever. A few minutes had passed, and the small crowd began to murmur, prompting Balon to finally notice that both of his children had boarded the ship. He stormed over to them and called out to Yara.

"Say your good-byes and come back here at once! There's no need for theatrics!"

"No, Father. I'm going with Theon." Yara's knees were shaking, but she spoke firmly.

Ned had walked over next to Balon. "She's stubborn like her father, I see."

"Oh, shut up. You have no idea what that girl is capable of."

"Cat would have my head if I brought two Greyjoys back with me."

"Wait here. I'm going to have a word with her."

Balon boarded the vessel and pulled on Yara’s arm until they were a few feet away from Theon. He spoke to her in a harsh tone. "Don't be stupid, girl. Let's go."

Yara stood on her toes to whisper to him. "You and I both know that Theon is weak and easily manipulated. I can keep an eye on him and figure out how we can take our revenge."

He spat back. "Splendid plan, but I need you here with me, not playing nursemaid to the Stark children."

"Father...I have to go with him. This is our lineage you're sending thousands of miles away. You're literally throwing him to the wolves."

Balon paused to look up at the confused faces in the crowd before raising his hand in the air to strike Yara across her face. She cried out and slumped to the ground.

"You dare defy me? Then go with your brother. Break your mother's heart and abandon your people. Take them, Lord Stark. Take them out of my sight. And when you return them to me, soft and weakened, I will remind them what it means to be Ironborn."

Balon stomped off the ship and threw his hands in the air. “They’re all yours.”

“Both of them?" Ned had a panicked tone in his voice.

"Yes. Both. Besides, what good is a girl going to do me anyway?" And with that, Balon trudged over to his convoy and waved his hand in the air for the crowd to disperse.  

Theon had rushed to his sister's side to comfort her. “Yara, you should stay. For mother’s sake, at least.”

“I can do more good for our family if I’m with you.”

Theon gulped and looked over helplessly at Ned Stark, who was equally puzzled and without words.

Finally, he approached the two siblings and knelt down beside them. "What's your name?" He held out a hand to Yara as she introduced herself.

"Does he hit you often?"

Yara nodded her head slowly and looked at Ned with the most sorrowful expression she could muster. "He's an awful, awful man."

Ned put his hand against his forehead and sighed. "I'll have to figure out how to tell Catelyn about this. At least I've got a few days to think about it."


	4. Chapter 4

It was their first time traveling so far away from home and in the company of strangers. Theon was less afraid now that his sister was with him. He smiled at her gratefully as often as he could. It was his mother that he missed already, and thus, he spent most of the journey quiet and sulking in his cabin.

Yara was still amazed that Ned had allowed her to come along. She wasn't sure if she had made the right decision, but Yara was certain that she could gain valuable information during her time at Winterfell and keep an eye on her brother. Should she be kind and demure? Could she? Living amongst her father's sworn enemy, supporters of the usurper and hostage takers of innocent children?

"You remind me of my older sister."

Ned had come across Yara on the main deck after most of the crew had retired for the evening. Her eyes were turned towards the stars, and he offered her a blanket to shield her from the cold gusts of wind coming off the sea. Yara was again surprised by Ned's kindness, but she was also wary as he was obviously trying to gain her trust.

"Oh? Why is that M'lord?"

"You're strong-willed, tough, but you have heart enough to take care of the ones around you."

"Thank you. But the same could be said for most people."

"Ah, yes, but you are also a young lady, born into a world where you are expected to let the men folk do the fighting and stay out of site. I can see you will have none of that."

Yara smiled politely. Truth be told, Balon usually seemed more put off by her age than her gender, like he was waiting for her to be old enough to give her a sword. Depending how long she stayed at Winterfell, she would miss out on many training opportunities with the Ironborn fleet, whenever her father was ready and able to re-engage his forces.

"You are quite different from my daughter. Sansa is very proper, even for a girl so young. My wife tells me she was born to be a queen. And of course, she will be, once she marries Joffrey Baratheon."

Queens. Kings. It was all the same to Yara so long as whoever was ruling had the intelligence to do so and the sincere respect of the people. As far as she was concerned (and to hear her father tell it), Robert Baratheon had neither intelligence nor respect. He was an unskilled buffoon who had surrounded himself with people who could make him successful. Like Ned Stark.

"How many children do you have?"

"I have three...well, actually four. My oldest boy Robb and my two girls Sansa and Arya...and my other boy Jon." Ned cleared his throat. "He's a bastard."

A bastard? Even the honorable Ned Stark had been unfaithful to his beloved wife. Maybe it was all men.

"My father probably has a bastard or two somewhere."

Ned suddenly looked uncomfortable. Maybe she should have kept that comment to herself.

"Yes, well...it's getting late. Why don't you look in on your brother? Good night, Yara."

"G'night, Lord Stark."


	5. Chapter 5

While waiting in the courtyard, they could hear yelling and objects being thrown against the walls. Theon remained close to Yara, cautiously eyeing the other children - a boy with wavy reddish-brown hair around Theon's age, a smaller boy with dark eyes and black curly hair, and a girl around five years old with ridiculously long red hair. The smallest child must have been inside, perhaps witnessing her mother's outburst.

Yara was unimpressed with what she'd seen of Winterfell. The structures were nice enough, sturdy at least, but nothing grandiose or spectacular. And she was less than enthusiastic about living under the same roof as Lady Catelyn. Not that she had high expectations as a hostage, but immediately upon their arrival, her ladyship had glared at Yara and her brother and demanded a word with Lord Stark inside the castle.

The Stark children seemed weak and sheltered. Yara was bored with them immediately, although slightly amused at how young Robb seemed to be fascinated by their presence.

"Where'd you get those clothes?" His first words to them. Maybe he was just being curious, but his tone bordered on condescending.

"They were stitched together, same as yours." She snapped back at him. "We're Ironborn. Our clothes aren't fancy. They serve a purpose."

"You might get cold is all I meant." Robb huffed to himself and decided to test the waters with the other Greyjoy.

"What's your name again?" Robb looked straight at Theon.

No response. "Well?"

"It's Theon."

Yara spoke up. "But you may call him Prince of Pyke. And perhaps you should bow."

Robb snickered. "Bow to him?"

The mention of a prince in their midst piqued Sansa's attention. "He's a prince? Then where are his jewels and crown? And his guards?"

Robb interjected before Yara could answer. "He's no prince. Even if he was, there's nothing left of Pyke. Jory told me how it all crumbled and how the mighty Balon Greyjoy had to surrender. The old fool took a knee to -"

And just like that, a fiery rage spread from the pit of Yara's stomach, traveling quickly to her arm and then through her hand. She punched Robb Stark's smug little mouth before he could finish his thought.

As he went down, his bastard brother knelt by his side to make sure he was alright. Sansa looked over in horror at both of the Greyjoys. She began to wail, and a number of guards and on-lookers swarmed around them. But worst of all, Lord Stark and Lady Stark had just emerged to witness the whole thing.

Theon looked down at his boots while Yara lifted her chin towards Ned. Lord Stark bore an expression of both anger and disappointment while Catelyn was simply seething with disdain. "Seize her!"

^^^^^^^^^^

Water was dripping from somewhere above. She couldn't be sure of the source, but Yara actually found the sound to be comforting. And even though she was being held in a dungeon of sorts, at least Theon was likely unharmed. Well, physically. Yara could already tell that he would fall in line much easier than she ever could.

Robb Stark. He had a lot nerve for a boy who'd spent his whole life shielded behind the walls of Winterfell. What did he know of her father's rebellion?

And Jory Cassel. Yara couldn't wait to lay eyes on him. If there was ever a time for revenge, he'd be the first to experience her wrath.

All of a sudden, Yara could hear footsteps coming towards her cell. She backed herself into the corner, not quite ready for whatever punishment awaited her.

"What were you thinking, girl?" It was Ned. She breathed a small sigh of relief but did not respond right away, waiting until she could see his eyes.

"Is this to be my fate? A prisoner of Winterfell? My father was right to be worried."

"Lady Catelyn wants to send you back to the Iron Islands."

"Maybe she ought to keep me here, so I can teach that boy of yours some manners."

"Enough!"

She had said too much again. Lord Stark was ready to give into the demands of his wife. Maybe Yara should go home. Theon would be fine here, and she missed Pyke anyways.

"But I told her about what you'd be going back to and how cruel your father is."

"Oh."

"So you will apologize to Robb."

"He spoke ill of the Ironborn!"

"And you will be on house duty during your time here."

"Like emptying chamber pots?"

"You can help in the kitchen and learn to sew and mend."

"I already know how to sew!"

"And you will address me as Lord Stark from now on. Or you will be returned."

Yara could tell he was weary from all of his recent travels. And the war. And having so many responsibilities. And now two more children to look after. She decided not to make waves for the moment.

"Fine. I mean, yes, Lord Stark. I will do those things. You have shown kindness to my brother and me. Thank you." And whether or not she was being sincere, Ned seemed to believe her. He unlocked the door of the cell and waited patiently for Yara to come out.


	6. Chapter 6

As far as Yara was concerned, there couldn't have been a duller time to be in Winterfell. A peace had settled across Westeros, and all of the strategic chatter quieted down amongst the lords in the North. Those who would come to seek Ned's counsel had petty grievances or trouble with their crop yields. The only mildly interesting complaint came from a farmer near House Bolton who spoke of the Bolton guards hunting women after dark in his fields. It couldn't be proven, and Ned Stark couldn't bring himself to believe that such depravity existed under his oversight.

Yara had been tending to the waiting visitors and listening to the farmer's story. She figured it was as true as anything else from what she knew about her father's soldiers and her own uncles, for that matter. Ned had signaled her to leave the hall once he realized she was taking in every word.

Most days, Yara went about her work begrudgingly, helping with the cooking and the serving, the pouring of the wine and water and Northern slop, the washing of the dishes. So many fucking dishes.

Yara never thought she'd be grateful for their scholarly lessons, which gave her a respite from the constant chores. Maester Luwin was tough enough not to take her sass and kind enough to keep her ahead of the other children in her studies. Yara was the oldest after all. She supposed it was gracious of Ned and Catelyn to let the Greyjoy children benefit from their private tutor and foolish as well. Why educate the children of your enemies?

She tried to keep a constant eye on her brother. When he wasn't tending to Lord Stark's horses or his other duties as a ward, Theon followed the eldest Stark boy around like a starving hound.

Even more amusing was the way that young Sansa Stark followed after Theon. She had taken a liking towards him once he managed to convince her that he truly knew what it meant to be a prince. Theon would tell her stories of servants he had named himself and large feasts with choirs that sang only at his command.

It was gratifying to have someone in his midst who thought highly of him. Not a day went by that the Greyjoys were reminded of their place in Winterfell as they ate and slept separately from the Starks.

Yara continued to detest the Stark children and their sniveling ways. She would not allow herself to feel any affection towards her father's sworn enemy, and she tried to caution Theon whenever she had the chance.

_Robb's not your brother, and Sansa will never be your bride. Don't ever forget what they did to our family. You're Ironborn. What if Father were here right now? He'd disown you._

And then there was Jory Cassel, a man who was easy to loathe. Whenever he'd encounter either of the Greyjoy siblings in the courtyard, he would recount to whomever was standing nearby of his great takedown of the stronghold at Pyke - as if he had done it all on his own, rather than fighting behind far braver men. The only time Jory kept his mouth shut was when his father Rodrik Cassel was nearby. Rodrik didn't tolerate that sort of posturing from anyone, least of all his son.

As Yara went about her chores, she would catch glimpses of Jory sparring with the other guards. She could see why he was so boastful. He was obviously very skilled to be so young. _At least our boys nicked you good_ , she would think to herself, when he'd look up and could only half wink at her because of his scar.

How she longed to pick up a sword and jam it all the way through Jory's smug face. Or she'd at least like to learn to maneuver a sword the way he did. Catelyn Stark would never allow a girl, especially a Greyjoy, near any weapons. She barely let Yara near the tea after that "accident" where Yara had mixed up the sugar and salt.

Maybe, just maybe if she bided her time, Yara could convince someone in Winterfell to train her to fight. Until then, she would have to continue studying Jory Cassel and the others from afar. She'd teach herself in secret, using branches from the Godswood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to pick this up again. Anyone want to help me write the rest? I have a few ideas. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some time has passed since the Greyjoys arrived to Winterfell.

Robb Stark had his merry band of followers, including his faithful convert, Theon, and over time, so did Yara. While Catelyn was chasing after two new Stark spawn, Bran and Rickon, Yara had become the unofficial caretaker of Jon and Arya. At least on the afternoons that she wasn't working in the kitchens and was free to practice sparring beneath the Heart Tree.

Jon had followed her to the Godswood one day and refused to leave, even after Yara heaped insult and insult upon him. He waited patiently as she finished her tirade. Then Jon shut her up with four words. _I'll tell my father._

 _Fine,_ she'd said. _You can stay under three conditions. One, you keep this to yourself. I don't need Catelyn Stark breathing down my neck about how I spend my free time. Two, you share what you learn from your lessons with Ser Rodrik. And three, you get me a proper sparring sword._

Jon had agreed to all of her demands, and Yara marveled at how stupid and trusting these Northerners were. Yet she felt the tiniest pang of sympathy for the bastard of Winterfell. Catelyn pretended as though he didn't exist, and anytime Ned was away, traveling to check on his bannermen, Jon was relegated to eating with the Greyjoys instead of his brothers and sisters.

The other children seemed to feel guilty about the way he was being treated, but only Arya, who was perhaps too young to understand, made an effort to spend time with Jon. And that's how she ended up in the Godswood too, watching Yara and Jon spar for hours on end.

After several weeks of their company, Yara was surprised to have an afternoon to herself. She knew that Jon had been invited on a hunt with his father, and she figured that Arya’s septa had detained her.

Yara caught herself almost missing them but quickly moved to practicing her technique with a phantom partner. It took a few minutes before she realized she was being watched. She stiffened at the sound of the intruder’s voice.

“What’s this? You can’t keep the Greyjoys down. Just like the words of your great house.”

She knew right away who that mocking tone belonged to, and it took everything she had in her not to respond. Why give him the satisfaction? But he knew what would provoke her.

“I’m sure Balon would be proud of your new skills. Your brothers too...if they were still around.”

Yara’s pulse quickened and before she knew what was happening, she was running at full speed towards Jory Cassel, sword raised and ready to plunge it into his heart. She was blinded by a pent up rage and the need to avenge her brothers. No matter that the sword wasn’t sharp enough to do any real damage.

Unfortunately, Yara didn’t notice her opponent’s foot raise up, tangling with her own feet just as she was about to engage him. She went flying into the air, only to land with a thud on the hard ground and the taste of the earth filling her mouth.

Then he was on top of her. He’d wrangled the sword from her hands and flipped her over, straddling her and staring down at her with his usual smug expression.

“You Ironborn girls. Not too pretty. Not too smart with a sword either.”

She refused to look him in the eye and lay still beneath him, waiting for the right moment to free herself. His weight was heavy upon her, but she knew his weakness. It was every man’s weakness.

“There are other things we Ironborn girls know.” And now she dared look at his stupid face and watch him ponder her offer as she started to move the lower part of her body against him.

“But...but...you’re just a...child.”

“Ha!” Yara leaned her head back into the ground and laughed. “Since when is that a problem for you Northerners?”

Anyway, she wasn’t really a child, not by traditional standards. She knew many a girl married off by the age of fifteen. He probably had no idea that she had seen her blood come and go several times already. The first time she bled was one of the few times Catelyn had been kind to her.

Jory still seemed unsure, so Yara pushed further. “C’mon now. It would complete your takedown of the Ironborn. To have killed my brothers and forced my father to bend the knee. And now to conquer Balon Greyjoy’s only daughter? There’s no one around to stop you.”

He surprised her by lifting himself off of her, his expression turning somber. He picked up her sword from the ground and started to back away.

“I’m not a monster.”

Yara raised herself up onto her elbows and shouted at him. “No? You’re just here, taunting a child. A child who lost her brothers. A child far from home. You’ve never missed a chance to rub it in my face. Or my brother’s.”

Jory shook his head and turned to go. “My duty is to the Stark family. You’re nothing to me.”

“Then stay away from me.”

“I’m not blind. I know what you’re after. But I won’t let you hurt them. Lord Stark will have to decide your fate for this...incident.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to say that Jory is about 6 years older than Yara in this fic. There will be something that develops between them. Not sure how to tag that.


	8. Chapter 8

Yara had been quiet during dinner, showing little interest in the hunt from earlier in the day. Theon was rather proud of himself too. He had been given his own bow and invited to participate, shooting down two bucks, which became the family’s meal.

“So...are you going to tell me what happened to you?” Theon pointed towards Yara’s face, which bore a fresh scrape along her cheek.

“I tripped when I was outside. Sometimes they let me out of the kitchen long enough for some fresh air.”

“Oh.”

“Thanks for your concern, brother.”

Yes, she was in a mood. He knew he should probably keep quiet, but Theon was growing tired of her constant negativity. “Yara...it’s really not so bad here. Father’s the one who -“

“Don’t. Don’t say another word. I’ve already failed him. They’ve brainwashed you.”

“They’re good people. And I think there’s a way to unite our houses.”

“You’re dreaming if you think Lord Stark will allow you to marry Sansa. I know you’ve heard him mention that his dear friend King Robert has a son about her age.”

“But I’m practically part of the family. Lord Stark trusts me with all of his affairs, and Robb calls me his brother.”

Theon figured that last remark would send her over the edge, but Yara just shook her head sadly and looked down at her plate.

“Believe what you want, brother, but they hate us as much as we hate them. You’ll see.”

And then something settled into the shadows of her face. Something Theon hadn’t seen since they’d arrived at Winterfell. Guilt.

“You’ve done something. Haven’t you? Something bad.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I swear, Yara. If you’ve ruined things for me...”

“Ruined? You ungrateful cunt! I gave up everything to be here...for you!” Yara reached across the table and grabbed Theon by the collar just as Ned stepped into the kitchen.

“Horse play between siblings, I’ll presume?”

Yara kept her eyes on Theon, silently daring him to say something, and then slowly letting go of his shirt. “Indeed, Lord Stark. That’s how the Ironborn settle disputes.”

“I see. Well. Theon, I need to speak with your sister alone. I’ll have one of the servants tidy up in here. Can you go check on the horses?”

Theon nodded and tried to discern from Ned’s expression how much trouble Yara was in, but it was too hard to tell. As Theon left the room, he turned to give his sister a reassuring half-smile. No matter their differences, he would always be loyal to Yara.

==========

“Do you know what I need to discuss with you?”

Yara took a deep breath, the cold night air filling her lungs. Ned had led her into the courtyard, stopping a few feet in front of the blacksmith’s work area. She wondered if anyone was lurking about in the shadows, eavesdropping on what was sure to be a stern warning or long-winded lecture. Or maybe a quick send-off to Pyke under the cover of night.

“Yes, I have some idea.”

It had been a while since her last heart-to-heart with just Ned. Usually, Catelyn was present too, with a sneer on her mouth and a glare in her eye. She was one of the only people - other than Jory Cassel - who had little to no trust for the likes of Yara, which made her one of the wiser people Yara had met.

“Jory came to me right before dinner. Yara, I have to say -“

“Lord Stark, I’ve a perfectly reasonable -“

“Let me finish.”

Yara hung her head. She knew what disappointment sounded like. It had always been Balon’s preferred tone.

“I just wish you had come to me with your request.”

“I’m s-sorry? My request?”

“Jory said you wanted to train with an actual sword. Said he found you practicing with some make-shift equipment.”

“Um...yes. That’s true.”

“I know it’s been hard on you, working in the kitchen and watching your brother learn all sorts of new skills.”

“Well, I...”

“We can’t send you back to the Iron Islands untrained, can we?”

“Send me back?”

“Eventually. Or whenever you’re ready to leave.”

Yara was completely floored. Why had Jory extended her a kindness? And why wasn’t Lord Stark more concerned for his family’s safety, putting a sword in the hands of his sworn enemy’s daughter?

“Catelyn won’t be thrilled, but as long as it doesn’t interfere with your other responsibilities...”

“No, Lord Stark. It won’t.”

“Of course you might have a shadow....”

“A shadow?”

“Arya. That’s why Cat might get angry. We’ll have started something.”

Ned could see that Yara was surprised by this gesture, perhaps questioning his motives. He patted her on the shoulder and nodded towards the door.

“Best get some rest. Training takes a lot out of you.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.”

“Oh, and I know it’s a bit unconventional, so you can sleep on it. Jory wants to be the one to train you.”


End file.
